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2014.03.20 - Bar Fishing
This bar is certainly one of the least rated within even the slums of Hell's Kitchen. A squat building with iron grills over broken windows, light by a naked bulb. An off-balance pool table covered in scratched felt is currently being played by two thuggish men. Another few are in a corner, playing a game of poker with a shocking number of chips. It can't possibly be real dollar for dollar currency, it must be for fun; although one has a five digit rolex, another a gold tooth, and the third a shirt and pants likely worth 600. Definite successful dealers in the area. Cable himself is sitting at the bar, nursing at a shot of whiskey. Two seats to his left is a shifty, weasely individual. Unbeknownst to most, he's actually wearing an image inducer; in reality he's a pink creature with suction cups for had, 3 eyes and deelyboppers. Also one with a huge bounty for stealing some criminal secrets from a distant world, and headed to Earth to meet someone to sell it to. Time is short. They don't know exactly where it is, but had the data needed for being tracked. And only one badass white-skinned Czarnian was able to do the job... and paid double if the secrets he carries are recovered, too! WHO'S THE MAN? Lobo! I CAN'T HEAAAAR YOU? LOBO! The massive Czarnian is slamming through the door, one of the hinges cracking on the door, his chain in hand. He eyes from person to person, his nose wriggling, his ears listening for the faint sound of nasal whistling. And then he's marching forward, almost everyone in the bar staring at the large alien. "I've found ya, bastich. Prepare ta get fragged!". And then Lobo's simply punching the weasly dude in the face, picking up the unoccupied stool and smashing it into him. "A'right, ya know something ma emplyer wants ta know. Spill it, ya bastich." After the door busts open, a number of people shift and stand, facing Lobo for a few moments. The hidden alien's eyes widen, before the strike slams him backwards. He's boneless in reality, so it only really stuns him, but the impact of the stool that follows shatters over his head. His image inducer sizzles and crackles, revealing his true form. Everyone shrieks and flees out the door, even the bartender wanting nothing to do. "L-Lobo...!!" squeals the Khaziliak. "I... I have the data encrypted!! You kill me, you'll never get your bonus!!" He pulls out a small blaster, surprisingly fast, moving to shoot Lobo in the chest. To his credit, it's remarkably quick and accurate, and would likely impact and leave a charred black mark that smolders. Not that such is liable to do anything but slightly annoy him. As the shot hits Lobo, he flinches..but the most the alien did was make him sting..and anger him, as he stumbles backwards into the person behind him..oh dear. "Fraggin'..ya better hope th' Triple Fish God has mercy on ya!". The Czarnian's cracking his knuckles, swinging for another punch at the Khaziliak. "Spill it, ya chump! Or I'll make ya into a delicacy, call it 'Th' Main Man's Special Blend'!" The only person to bump into is Cable. Actually, why is anyone even in here? He manages to keep hold of his drink however, and seems remarkably sturdy; his stool creaking ominously. "Watch it." he states with annoyance, seeming otherwise uninterested in the abrupt destruction, attack, and fearful people. The Khaziliak is struck again, but it's like punching a giant squishball, flattening him before he pops back into shape. What a weird creature. "Ow...! You want money. That means you want my code...!! I can give you triple if I get it to my seller!!" Lobo ignores the man he bumped into other than a kind of 'don't get in my way' snarl. He has something more important to deal with right now. Triple? Sounds tempting..but the temptation drops quick. "As great as th't sounds, I made'a main man's agreemento, sorry for ya'.". Lobo would never break his promise, even if it was an appealing offer. It's just not Lobo. Now, he's twirling the chain in his hand, ready to toss it at the Khaziliak. "Shall we see whadd happen if I tossed this thru' ya'?" "The information is hidden within his stomach. He swallowed it some time ago. It's a small metal box, with the code 84297. Now can I drink in peace?" Cable offers, glancing sidelong. His eye is glowing red at the moment, shimmering away a moment later before he takes another slow sip. The Khaziliak goes paler pink on the face, and sweats something sweety, sticky and tangy. "It's a lie! A lie!!" How did that weird man even know?! "Thank ya' kindly.". Lobo grunts at the..strange man, before grabbing the Khaziliak with both hands, searching for what qualifies as a mouth on this thing, prying it open..and shoving a hand down his 'throat' into his 'stomach', probably excrutiatingly painful. Lobo spends about a minute fishing his hand in there, before yanking the metal box out, patting the alien on the head, as he begins to test the code. "Now, see? That wasn't so hard, was it, ya' bastich?". Lobo 'smiles', before he's fishing in his jacket for something. Oh boy. The code that Cable gave actually works. It would pop open and reveal an advanced data crystal. For what purpose or device is unknown, but also Lobo doesn't care. It meets the description offered, after all. "Also, he was lying. He wouldn't have paid you triple, but tried to have his partners kill you." Cable finishes off his whiskey, setting it to the side. His eyes still remain ahead on the bar. From the stammering of the pink, gagging alien -- really, all he has within is a system of bladder-filled tubes and a stomach -- he's trying to deny it. He's a bad lyer. "I thought we was friends..whats-yer-face.". Lobo growls, as, out of his jacket, he pulls out a laser cannon as big as his arms. Don't ask where he got it. "Time to frag.". He's firing one, solid, large burst at the alien, before..just putting it back in his jacket, really. Once whatever has happened to the alien has happened, he's moving over the bar (whether it's alive or not), grabbing a random bottle of hard liquour, cracking it open, downing the whole thing in seconds, smashing the bottle, before jumping back over and moving for the door, a tick of the head to Cable, the crystal in his hand. "Yer not bad. But th' Main Man is the greatest." The upper end of the hapless alien vaporizes, leaving only his legs and a lot of pink, sticky blood in all directions. Then he slumps over, dead by any account Lobo is aware of. He knows the physiology; they can regenerate if they have their head intact, but currently it's in several pieces. A massive chunk of debris and broken wall followed past the explosive shot, and indeed a lrage amount of liquir has fallen and crashed into puddles on the ground. But there's plenty of it left, really. "I don't really care who you are. The Lobe, I think he called you. If you're done, leave." Certainly nothing remotely polite; rather dismissive, all things considered. All he did was use his telepathy to resolve the situation the fastest way possible. Besides, the alien was absolute scum. Universe is a little better off. "It's th' Main Man. Get it right, bastich.". Lobo growls this at Cable, before going back through the door, this time the other hinge falling off. What a pleasant day. There's a sort of exasperated noise from Cable. Trouble always seems to follow him, even if it's having the bad luck to be in a bar with an intergalactic hunter's target. He lifts up his hand, and it begins to glow blue. The door shifts up and thumps back into place, before the hinges straighten and screws whirl to twist back into place. Fragments of wood slowly flow back together, assembling both the bar and the shelves. Lastly, the broken bottles are reformed one by one, although Cable hesitates. He has no real idea which goes in. Good, a puzzle... judging by the residue, he makes an educated guess and settles them all back into place. Outside the dead alien, there's not an inch of damage not already present here. He flicks a ten on the bar, slipping hands within trenchcoat pockets and moving to shoulder out the door into the street. He likes this place. Won't do any good if it's broken... Category:Log